The facility never slept. Even in the dead of night, the humming of machines, the quiet murmur of distant voices, and the rhythmic footsteps of patrolling guards filled the air. The artificial lighting overhead cast eerie shadows, flickering ever so slightly, as if the walls themselves were alive.
Alexa lay awake, her body aching from training, but her mind too alert to rest. Beside her, Alexandra shivered under the thin blanket, her body burning with fever. Her breathing was shallow, uneven, like the final embers of a dying fire.
Alexa reached over, brushing damp strands of hair from Alexandra's face. She's getting worse. The fever hadn't broken. It was only a matter of time before the facility noticed.
And in this place, weakness wasn't tolerated.
Then—footsteps.
Alexa's entire body tensed. The sound was soft, deliberate.
Someone was coming.
She shut her eyes, slowing her breathing, pretending to sleep. The dormitory door creaked open, allowing a sliver of pale light to spill in.
Two figures entered, their silhouettes outlined against the dim glow.
A whisper. "That one. The sick girl. Take her.
Her pulse pounded.
A shadow moved toward Alexandra's bed. Alexa's stomach twisted. No. Not her.
Her body reacted before her thoughts caught up.
In a flash, Alexa shot up and grabbed the wrist of the nearest intruder. A startled gasp escaped them. The other figure flinched, momentarily thrown off.
Her grip was iron. "She's not going anywhere."
Her heart hammered as her eyes adjusted to the dim light. The person she had caught—a facility medic, dressed in a white coat—stared at her in shock. The faint scent of antiseptic clung to them.
The second figure, another medic, lingered near the door.
The first medic hesitated before speaking. "If she doesn't get treatment, she'll die."
Alexa didn't loosen her grip. Treatment?"
There was no such thing as real treatment here. Only experiments. Only disposal.
The second medic took a cautious step forward. *"Meet me at the infirmary before lights-out tomorrow. Alone."
Then, just as quickly as they had come, they vanished.
Alexa stood frozen in place, her heartbeat echoing in her ears.
What was that? A trap? A test? Or something worse?
She turned to Alexandra, whose fevered eyes barely cracked open. Alexa squeezed her hand. I won't let them take you."
The next day felt like an eternity.
Alexa pushed herself through combat drills, her mind racing. Every strike, every dodge, every grueling lesson blurred together. But her thoughts never strayed far from Alexandra.
By midday, Alexandra was barely standing. Her steps wavered, her lips pale.
Alexa caught her just before she could collapse. She leaned in, whispering urgently, *"Hold on. Just a little longer."
Alexandra gave a weak nod, but the exhaustion in her eyes was unmistakable.
They were running out of time.
Night came too quickly.
Alexa sat upright in bed, listening. The guards made their rounds, their boots clicking against the floor. The facility was silent.
Now.
She moved swiftly, slipping out of bed and into the shadows.
Every step was careful, precise. She pressed against the walls, her breath held as she crept through the halls. The closer she got to the infirmary, the colder the air seemed to become.
The scent of chemicals grew stronger. A sharp, sterile stench that made her stomach twist.
A rustle.
A *hand clamped around her wrist.
Alexa spun, her body coiled for a fight—but it was the medic.
Their face was hidden by shadows, their expression unreadable.
"Follow me. Quickly."
Alexa's breath was shallow. "Why are you helping her?"
The medic hesitated. Then, in a voice barely above a whisper, they said, "Because she's not the only one who's sick. And if you want to save her, you need to know the truth."
Alexa's mind raced. What truth?
She didn't trust them. She couldn't.
But if there was even a chance to save Alexandra… she had to take it.
Taking a deep breath, she stepped into the unknown.